The Darkness
by bassgoddess
Summary: Although I love Scabior/Hermione, I thought that she is a little young and too much of a "good girl" for him.  So I invented a character Lucy, who was at Azkaban but is able to transfer her sentence into less time and agrees to join the Snatchers.
1. Chapter 1

Lucy closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the small pillow. Bringing a hand up to her temple, she kneaded the pounding flesh she found there. Always the same nightmare. Always about Azkaban.

The beatings and rapes at the hands of the prison guards nearly broke her. Nearly. Her nose had been broken but had thankfully healed straight. The only reminder was a small bump at the bridge. She had been branded by a particularly sadistic guard. All that remained was a large section of mottled skin on her left shoulder. Other than that she was uncharacteristically fine.

When her sentence was commuted and she was offered the opportunity to join the ranks of the Snatchers, she jumped at the opportunity. She would make no wage, but she would only endure five years of service and then her record would be expunged; her name cleared.

She silently studied the roof of the tent above, still feeling her heart rapidly beating in her chest. Stretching an arm behind her head, she rolled onto her side, glancing at the bed next to her. She was startled by the pair of piercing blue eyes trained on her.

"Nightmares again?," Scabior started, his head turned towards her. She didn't make a move to respond. He continued.

"You cried out. Startled me."

Lucy looked away. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to wake you."

"'s no bother," he started, turning his body on its side, away from her. "Get some rest."

Lucy nodded to herself and closed her eyes. She felt her shoulders tensing involuntarily.

"You really won't tell me what wakes you, will you?," he asked, mumbling into his chest, still turned away.

She treated his question as rhetorical. He knew she wouldn't say anyway. It wasn't that she wanted to hide things from him; quite simply she just could not bear to actually say the words. It made everything all too real. If she told him what happened it would be harder for her to escape the memories. And she did not want pity. She was a strong girl. But she had learned from experience to never let anyone in.

Lucy was glad she currently shared a tent with him. It was nice to have someone else there. It was nice to have him close by when she had those terrible dreams. Really it was nice to work with all of them. Once they got over the initial phase of catcalls, she became one of the guys; like a brother. As odd as it was for a group of mercenaries, they were always professional towards her. She didn't have to worry about sharing a tent with Scabior, or really anyone. They were a team, working together for a common goal.

She sighed and sat up, gathering her thoughts before sneaking over to the small table. There was a deck of cards strewn about and a bottle of firewhiskey. She sat down, eyeing the cards. She wasn't really in the mood for cards though. Crossing her leg over its mate, she picked up the bottle, rolling it in her hands before leaning back in the chair and taking a big swig.

"Lush," he spoke softly, his eyes still closed, his mouth set in a smirk.

Lucy smiled and tipped it back against her lips once more. The amber liquid burned its way down her throat and she relished the feeling of fire in her belly in this cold, cold night.

Taking the bottle with her she moved back to her bed, sitting on the edge. Two more swigs and she felt tired. Placing the bottle on the floor gently, she lay once more against the pillow, her wavy auburn hair stretching out behind her.

As she closed her eyes she heard his breathing, even and heavy, and the rhythm of it lulled her into a dreamless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Dawn broke, yet a chill remained in the air.

This morning they were on the hunt for a boy and girl, no more than seventeen. Today would be no different than any other; Scabior would give the order, they would scatter to predetermined locations, surprise and apprehend their marks. It was all fairly rote. However, the boy and girl tore off to completely different forest areas. Lucy knew based on their usual plan she should go after the girl, but she was far closer to the boy, Henry.

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, throwing spells as she ran after him, making sure to duck his even return fire. Suddenly he had vanished, she couldn't find him anywhere. She was just about to head back to camp when an arm went around her waist.

"You bloody bitch," Henry, the aforementioned boy, started, twisting an arm painfully behind her. Lucy cried out.

"Stupefy!", Lucy heard, and turned to look. Fenrir Greyback had followed them both. Now Henry stood immobile as she untangled herself from the limbs.

She was humiliated. She had been made. She had been caught by those she was supposed to catch. This had never happened. She should have listened and gone after the girl, why had she not?

The rest of the group appeared with the girl, pushing her along in front of them as she struggled. Scabior came over the hill, into view.

"Oi! What the hell was that?," he spat as he approached her.

Lucy looked at the floor, then at Greyback, who shrugged and turned away.

"Thought I had 'im," she muttered, looking at the grass below. After a moments pause she brought her eyes back up to level with those steely blue ones of his.

"You thought you had 'im," he repeated, circling her, backing her against a large tree trunk.

"I-I did," she stammered. Suddently a hand was on her throat, constricting tightly, squeezing the air from her lungs.

"Don't ever disobey me again, my girl," he sneered at her, knocking her head cruelly back against a tree trunk.

Lucy's hands were all about his, trying to get him to loosen his grasp.

"You could have us all killed, is that what you wanted?," he spoke softly, almost like a lover. The contrast of his voice and actions chilled her to her very bones. A tear threatened to roll out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't nod 'no' or move at all. She was completely pinned and at his mercy. She choked on air if that was even possible.

"Look at this," he said, turning his shoulder slightly as he held her so she could see where his jacket was split, and blood seemed to be matted on the vest and shirt underneath. "Because of you I have this." He pushed her neck again. "Because of you I got hit."

Her hands struggled, and then stilled as she suddenly felt so very weak...

"Scabior-," Greyback started, obviously uncomfortable, walking forward, but was met with the steely gaze of the Snatcher leader, and decided to turn back away.

The men shuffled about nervously. They were all a team and it was disturbing at the very least to see one of their own held up in this manner.

"I didnt 'ear an answer," he continued, softly, bringing up his other hand, choking her, shaking her again into the tree. "Us killed...is that what you wanted?"

Her head was on fire and her world threatened to turn upside down. Her head drifted down. She felt so dizzy...

His hands squeezed again, and her eyes grew wide. Was this how it was all to end?

She choked out a sob, neither a yes or no, but it seemed to suffice. He dropped his hands and she dropped on her knees to the cold forest floor, coughing instantaneously. Bracing her hands in front of her she took large gulpfuls of air, trying to right her lightheadedness.

She was terrified. She hadn't thought anyone in her team was particularly nice, but she hadn't been afraid of them. Now she was afraid. She realized, no, they in fact were not mates. They were barely colleagues.

Scabior turned back up the hill, motioning for the men to bring the boy and girl. Lucy heard their retreating footsteps her head still pounding in her ears.


	3. Chapter 3

They must have apparated without her, for as Lucy rounded the top of the hill there was no one there. Pulling her leather jacket tighter around herself against the cold, she started the trek back to the camp. Every twig she stepped on, every crackling leaf set her hair on end. Her encounter with Scabior had left her shaken.

Shortly later she was back at the camp; back at her tent. Well, their tent. She wondered if she should pack it up and bunk down with someone else. Crossing into the tent, she went for the first and only thing she was after. The half-drunk bottle of firewhiskey.

Fluffing her pillow, she leaned back against it, crossed her still-booted feet over each other and took a long swig. The liquid burned on its way down. She thought about what the hell she was supposed to do and how she'd get back in favor with the group. Her head hurt and her neck was sore. She ran a hand over it tenderly, testing the skin she found there. It was sore and most likely bruised. After a few feeble attempts at massaging it, she dropped her hand. It simply hurt too much. She sat up and removed her boots and socks, rubbing her feet. They were always sore after all the running on uneven ground her group did. Sighing, she leaned against the pillow once more, tipping the amber liquid back again.

Two more drinks from the bottle and she fell into a fitful sleep.

She was startled awake when she felt her mattress shift. Suddenly, someone swung a leg over her, straddling her. She struggled, and his hands went to hers, pinning them to her chest and her flat against the mattress.

"What the fuck?," she started, as a hand went to her mouth, silencing her, now holding both wrists with one hand.

"Don't move," he started. She knew his voice anywhere, it was Scabior. She was terrified and struggled even more. "I said don't," he spoke back, his voice cool, even and a little menacing. She stilled immediately. Lucy could smell alcohol on his breath. They must have dumped the muggles and gone to celebrate. As per usual.

He let go of her hands and mouth and ran a finger down to the waistband of her black trousers. Her breathing hitched as he slowly traced his finger up over her abdomen, then back down, flicking open the button carelessly. Her hands clenched at her sides as she felt his feather light touch against her skin. It had been so long since she had been with anyone. So very long...

She took a quick indrawn breath. Was he doing what she thought he was?

He set to work at the zipper of her pants and she realized, yes, in fact, this was what she was thinking.

Lucy knew she should be repelled. She should fight and struggle, but she felt the warmth radiating off of him, and breathed in his scent from outside. If she could just have this moment...to make it up to him, just one moment of someone wanting her, she would die happy.

She leaned up to him in the darkness, searching out his lips. He placed a hand on her chest and pushed her back flat against the bed, away from his lips, signaling this was not an option. Confused, she reached for his jacket to pull him down to her. He caught her wrist as it came to him and pushed it away. Then he moved to his jacket, tossing it off his shoulders and letting it drop softly at the floor.

_What was wrong with her?_ She was lost in this man and his confidence and control, how he towered over her, how he decided that they would be doing this. She was startled back to reality when she felt his hands at her waistband once more.

Moving downwards he slid her trousers down over her hips. She did not know why but she lifted her hips to help him and at that moment he looked up suddenly, catching her gaze. Her heard pounded in her ears. The situation was terrifying in a way and yet comforting. She knew him. For months now. It was not like some careless guard trying to rape her in a corner. Her eyes glazed over and she tilted her head back, closing her eyes gently. He had to look away and before she could register what was happening he had pushed his pants over his hips, pushed her panties to the side and slid into her in a single motion.

It had been so long...

He filled her up and each time he pulled back she whimpered, begging for his heat; his warmth. He leaned over her, careful to avoid her lips but he did lower his face to her neck and softly kiss along there and the outside of her ear, making her body shudder. His long fingers went under her shirt to her left breast, gently kneading it. She arched against him, still trying to catch his lips. He was so cold, so aloof and unemotional that she gave up trying to touch her lips to his own, and lay back, enjoying the thrust and drag and the pounding of blood in her head. He sped up and she cried out, wrapping her legs around him. She was close, so very close, and then without warning he grunted softly and stilled, spilling himself inside her.

She hoped for his welcome weight laying atop her, but he withdrew from her suddenly, pushing his weight on his arms until he could fasten his pants. He didn't even look at her. Then, without a word, he moved to his bed, kicked off his boots, and laid down, facing away from her.

_What the fuck? What the fuck had just happened? _

After several moments of no speaking and wondering what the hell had just happened, she moved her hands down to her trousers, fastening them. She reached next to her and grabbed her wand. With a flick or her wrist she muttered a contraceptive charm.

She glanced to his sleeping form and it angered her. She was left unsatisfied and she was furious at him. She was angry he had nearly strangled her, angry that he had laid on her bed and helped himself to her body, so very angry at him for so many things.

Her blood boiled, and she rose to her feet, hurriedly pulling on her socks and shoes. She'd go sit by the fire and finish off the bottle. That's what she'd do. Having finished lacing them, she grabbed the bottle next to her bed and walked towards the tent door.

"Lush," he called softly over his shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

They hadn't spoken in days. Neither person wanted to initiate. They moved camp several times and were perfectly happy to not speak to each other. Lucy assumed the men picked up on how angry she was at him, probably because she made no attempt to conceal her pointed glares.

Scabior for his part just did his job. He hadn't meant to anger her; he had meant to show her her place. He felt weak when she had disobeyed him; like he had to make an example out of her for some odd reason. But every time he closed his eyes and laid down he remembered having to pin her down to keep her from touching him while he was inside her. God, she had been so tight, and he had wanted her so badly. He had been so incredibly frustrated and had a momentary lapse in judgment. He didn't want her to kiss him. He didn't want it to be real. Something inside him, however, told him it was.

They had just rounded up three more muggles. Lucy was sweating from the run as Greyback and the others prepared to apparate with the muggles. She was about to apparate herself when she felt a strong hand on her arm, pulling her.

"Don't," Scabior started, his voice low and menacing.

She looked down to her arm and shrugged him off.

"Let me go," she told him, her chin involuntarily jutting out at him.

He turned his attention back to his crew and nodded. "On with you! We'll be right behind."

Turning back to her he approached her, the same predatory serious look on his face that he'd had several days before. Lucy instinctively backed away as she saw the men apparate out of her peripheral vision.

"Stay away from me," she said, her voice more a growl than words.

She took the next step behind her and realized she was once again pushed up against a tree. She gasped as the bark suddenly bit into her. Scabior kept advancing, tossing his wand to the forest floor, in the moss and leaves.

"I mean it!," she said through clenched teeth, preparing to strike.

He lunged at her and she screamed, pushing him off. He caught her wrists, pulling them behind her, then transferring them both to a single one of his hands. She struggled as best she could, mostly using her shoulders as she let out a string of obscenities.

"What? Have come back for seconds you bloody git!", she said, her head lowered.

"Have you come to leave me completely unsatisfied a second time!," she continued, and with that she spat in his face.

As soon as she did that she froze. She was terrified that she had perhaps angered him and he would beat her, rape her, strangle her, or some combination. She sunk back into the tree, her breathing heavy.

He didn't even move to wipe his cheek. Instead he turned away for a second, almost gathering his thoughts. Then suddenly he wedged a knee between her legs and his free hand went to the waistband of her trousers.

Her head sank, looking to the leaves at her feet. She didn't even care what happened.

He slowly stroked the skin of her abdomen until her breathing hitched. It was an odd feeling; a cross between feeling ticklish and feeling aroused. She tried to bring her legs together, but he took another step, pressing his leg further up towards the juncture of her things. She let out a small wimper.

He worked so quickly; she didn't even realize that his hand was inside her pants. He reached down ever so slowly, running his fingers gently inside her panties, reaching until he found her folds. He parted them and started stroking her, slowly. She let out a muffled groan and sank against him.

He let her wrists go and her hands went immediately about his shoulders, pulling him closer, placing her head, still down, into the crook of his neck.

"Is this what you wanted, my lovely?," he turned slightly and spoke directly in her ear. His breath tickled the small hairs there and she shivered against him. His fingers slowed and he pushed her gently with his shoulder.

"Is it?"

She looked into his eyes and he could see her glassy gaze reflecting obvious lust. She nodded and whispered, "Yes. Oh God, yes. Please...please don't stop."

With that, he used his free arm to crush her to him and she cried out as his fingers sped up, moving quickly against her slickness as she bucked against him.

"I think you liked it," he spoke into her ear again.

"I think you liked it when I used you up," he said softly, gently biting the lobe of her ear. Her knees wobbled, but he steadied her. God, she was so close.

"I bet if I feel you now you'll be wet. I think you like when I have control over you.," he said almost coldly, then reached a finger inside her.

Her muscles clenched as she threw her head back. He took the opportunity to start dragging small kisses up the column of her bare neck.

Soon another finger joined the first as he continued to work on her adding his thumb.

"You sick, sick girl," he said, biting her ear gently.

Lucy heard him say that in her ears and was angry, turned on, disgusted with herself...several things, really. She slapped him across the cheek and he stilled.

Looking her square in the eyes, he gave her a small smirk, and tapped her with his hand inside her pants; a mock slap, nothing hard.

Lucy cried out and moved her hands behind her against the tree as his mouth found her neck and his hand worked furiously to send her over the edge.

She cried out. Her ears sounded funny. Her vision had just flashed white. In the confusion she realized her knees had given way and she was once more on her hands and knees in the leaves. Scabior took several steps so he was in front of her and slowly rubbed his wet hand against his plaid trousers.

Satisfied with himself, he turned away, walking to the clearing. He called over his shoulder, "Well, are you coming or not?"

He turned towards her, looking at her with that smirk she was beginning to despise, picked up his wand, and without another word, he was gone.


End file.
